


Lessons In Asking For Help

by joufancyhuh



Series: To Know A Vael [18]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Kidfic, parenting fic, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15205538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: For the prompt, "So that's it? It's over?"





	Lessons In Asking For Help

**Author's Note:**

> Look, anon who requested this prompt from me on tumblr. This isn't what you expected. I know what you expected, and I wanted to twist it and step away from that break-up angst you were craving. But this fucking prompt _worked_ me hard. I hope you like it either way. 
> 
> Thanks to GuileandGall for stepping in to save this piece. Cause I don't want kids, I have no desire for kids, and I don't know how to properly mother or care for things. Which makes writing "a loving mother on the verge of a breakdown" a very hard thing to accomplish.

“Kalea, for the love of the Maker, let me leave him with the governess so we can sleep.”

Kalea shot daggers toward her husband over their screaming infant who she bounced against her chest. Her grip on Carver tightened with the thought of a stranger handling him. She trailed away from Sebastian in her pacing of the disorganized nursery, kicking toys out of her way so she wouldn’t trip on them. “You want to sleep, you know where the bed is. Nothing’s stopping you.”

“Pidge, you know I love how much you like to do things yourself, but now is not one of those times.”

Sebastian chased her around the room, cleaning up the trail of discarded objects she used in her attempts to quiet Carver. With his arms full, he headed to the toy chest and dumped out the load he acquired, though it did little to tidy the nursery. When she didn’t respond, her focus back to how to quiet her screaming child, Sebastian’s shoulders sagged with one of his signature sighs that pegged her as unreasonable. She heard it a lot over the past two months since Carver’s arrival.

“We employed a governess for a reason.”

“ _You_ hired her, not me.” Kalea rubbed the infant’s back, keeping with the bouncing motion when her steps paused to continue her glare at Sebastian. “He’s just a little fussy.” She shifted Carver up in her arms to kiss the crown of his head. The show of affection did nothing to halt his screeching. His voice wavered with the strain of his powerful outburst; it was heartbreaking to hear, and she didn’t know how to stop it. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to pawn him off on some stranger.”  

Sebastian rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw. Kalea dipped slightly and picked up a stuffed mabari off a nearby table, lobbing it at him to wipe that exasperated look off his face. It squeaked when it connected with his chest.

“Real nice, Pidge.” He stooped to pick it off the ground and tossed it into the toy chest with the others before stepping forward. His hands reached up to cup her face with both hands, worry in his gaze. “At least give him to me for a bit so you can take a break. Get a nap or eat something. I had food brought up. It’s on a cart just outside the door.”

She tore her eyes away from his. “I’m fine,” she snapped, though the low rumble in her stomach disagreed. She patted Carver’s bottom as she moved away from Sebastian, choosing to stare at the shelved books on the wall to hide her welling tears.

She helped raise both her siblings and neither of them gave her this much grief. Why couldn’t she calm her own child? What was she doing wrong? She did everything she could think to do: feeding, changing, bathing, swaddling, burping. She tried to put him down for a nap twice. Even laid down with him. Apparently, her son inherited his family’s stubborn genes. He just laid next to her with his little hands balled up tight, screaming so loud his tongue shivered in his open mouth as his face turned impossibly red. In desperation, she even tried singing to him, which yielded no result, though that came as no surprise given her inability to carry a tune.

“You don’t trust me with him?”

“Not when you keep talking about passing him off to someone else.” Her hold on Carver tightened as the first tear raced down her cheek. _She could handle this_ , she knew it. She was his mother. If she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, surely no one else could. He needed her. She swiped the tears away with her sleeve, drawing in shaky breaths to keep any more from falling.

“What if I promise not to?” Sebastian’s voice came from behind her as his arms wrapped around her waist. A soft kiss fluttered against the back of her neck. “I want to help.”

“I said I’m fine,” she snapped, raising her voice to compete with Carver’s wailing.

“You’re exhausted. Which I know, because I’m exhausted, and I’m not with him half the time you are.” Sebastian moved his hands to her hips to force her to spin around and face him. “If you won’t accept help from the governess, then accept it from me.” He leaned his forehead against hers, the action stilling her constant movement as she closed her eyes to it.

She fought her urge to resist when the weight of the baby left her arms. Her eyes flew open as Sebastian backed away into the center of the room, resuming the bouncing motion she attempted with Carver. “Go,” Sebastian nodded in her direction, though his eyes glued to the screaming bundle of red in his arms. “I have him.” When Kalea didn’t move, his eyes flickered up. “Trust me,” he urged, his tone pleading with her.

“I’m only going to eat. That’s it.” But she stayed in place by the bookshelves, watching Sebastian interact with Carver, waiting for the slightest reason to take him back into her arms. Already, she missed his presence against her chest, the warmth of their shared body heat, his tiny hands clutching her blouse.

When he noticed her lack of movement towards the door, he shifted to make sure she could see that he held him securely in order to try and demonstrate that she could trust him. “I told you, I have him.”

Kalea huffed, marching over to them so she could say goodbye. She nuzzled the top of Carver’s head with her cheek. “Màmag will be right back, Carver, I promise.” She shot a glare at Sebastian. “You’re certain you’re okay taking him?”

“Kalea, I’m going to lock you out of this room if you don’t leave right now.” Sebastian sidestepped her attempt to swat the back of his head.

Adrenaline surged through her veins at the thought of a forced separation, even in jest. “Try it and see what happens, asshole. Don’t think I won’t blow that door off its hinges.”

He chuckled, eyes trained on the hysterical baby in his arms. “You’ll protect me from Màmag, won’t you, Carver?” He lifted one of Carver’s clenched fists, waving it in Kalea’s direction like a fake punch.

“Boban’s going to end up in the hall if he keeps this up,” she said, more warning than good humor in her voice.

But Sebastian’s threat, however empty, worked, though not without several pauses to peek over her shoulder. She ducked out into hallway leading toward the salon, leaving the nursery door ajar to listen for trouble. Carver’s screeching trailed after her, combined with low tempo of Sebastian’s voice while he tried to calm the baby down.

At least Sebastian fared no better than she did. That thought gave her some solace, that the child was inconsolable no matter who held him.

She spotted the silver cart pushed to the side of the salon, a lid covering whatever dinner her husband ordered the kitchen to prepare. Lukewarm pottage sat in a bowl inside, but her stomach didn’t care. She stood over the cart, bowl raised to her lips as she used the spoon to help shovel food into her mouth. The quicker she ate, the sooner she could return to Carver. She scarcely chewed the chunks of potatoes and lamb before it slid down her throat, and she alternated bites of stew with tearing into the chunk of bread that sat beside it.

There wasn’t a chance to finish her meal when she noticed the room start to quiet down, Carver’s wailing softening. She set down her meal and crept back toward the nursery, arriving as the crying ceased altogether. Pushing open the door, Sebastian’s head raised from where he cradled Carver on his chest in the rocking chair. A gentle melody came from Sebastian’s lips that matched the slow speed of the chair, the fire in the hearth casting an orange light over the two.

Fists formed at her side as she fought back the fresh wave of tears. “So that’s it? It’s over?” Scared to wake up the baby, she stayed by the door. “I step out of the room, and suddenly he’s fine?”

“Kalea.” There was a warning tone in Sebastian’s voice, a threat not to go down this path. His humming resumed, the chair not even slowing in its motion.

“All day, Sebastian.” Her voice cracked with the dam on her tears. “All fucking day I tried to put him to sleep, to get him to do anything but cry.”

Sebastian shushed her between his humming, amping her up more.

“Don’t fucking shush me!”

Carver stirred, a tiny groan and tremble of his hand before falling back into his docile state. Sebastian gritted his teeth, shooting a pointed look in her direction. “Go to bed, Kal. Our bed, not the couch. I’ll stay with him tonight.”

She ignored him, marching over to the couch and plopping down. “I don’t understand. I tried everything, and you hold him and that’s it.” Her palms scrubbed at her damp cheeks. “Why am I so bad at this? What am I doing wrong?”

Sebastian stopped his humming, though continued on with his rock. “Babies are … complicated.” He nuzzled the top of Carver’s head, the hand on the baby’s back rubbing small circles. “I don’t understand anything more than you do.”

“Why am I such shit at this?” She drew her knees to her chest as her chest heaved with sobs, her body quaking with each tearfall. “I’m his _mother_. You probably think I’m horrible at it, can’t even properly care for him. What’s it going to be like when he’s older if I can’t handle him now?”

The sound of the rocking chair stopped, a soft padding of feet to her location on the couch. With careful movement, Sebastian took a seat beside her, pulling her to the opposite side of his chest from where Carver snoozed against him. “You’re exhausted, Kalea, and I think he senses that.” Sebastian smoothed back her hair, planting a kiss on top of her head. “You know everyone thinks you’re a terrific mother, right?”

She shoved him away, but he stayed in place, petting her hair. When she lifted her tear-stained face, his thumb stroked her cheek to wipe away some of her visible anguish. “I’m serious. A mother putting as much effort into handling their child is unheard of in aristocratic families.”

“He’s my son,” she grumbled.

“Our son, not just yours.” Sebastian leaned back to lay down on the couch, pulling her with him. She settled on top of him to not fall, her head resting opposite of Carver. Up close, she admired his long dark eyelashes, the soft tufts of hair on his head that matched her own. With trembling fingers, she reached out and stroked his cheek, the infant scrunching his face to the touch.

Sebastian kissed her forehead, drawing her in closer to keep her beside them. “It’s not weakness to accept help sometimes.”

She craned her head up, capturing Sebastian’s lips in a flutter of a kiss. “I’ll consider it.” Shifting around to make herself more comfortable, her head fell into the crook of his neck.

“That’s all I ask.” 

When she closed her eyes, _only for a second,_ sleep whisked her away into the warm night.


End file.
